Free Defender by Catherine Mann Page A

heft, actually. She was lighter, frailer feeling, when she wasn’t waterlogged.
    A security cop headed toward them with his M-4 carbine drawn. “Halt. Put her down.”
    Great. They thought he was one of the hormonal whackos.
    Chloe waved, angling her head to the side. “It’s okay. He’s helping me.”
    The cop nodded and rushed past them toward the fray. Jimmy pressed ahead, out of the hangar and onto the moonlit tarmac.
    She jostled along on his shoulder. “You can thank me for not selling you out to that cop for fun.”
    Seemed she’d used up all her gratitude earlier. “And you can thank me for saving your ass again.”
    He smacked a flattened palm on her butt—only to steady her of course. And to stop the tantalizing brush of her breasts across his back.
    “Ouch, you Cro-Magnon.” She smacked his butt right back. “Put me down.”
    “You were wriggling. I was only keeping you from falling off.” Of course, if she touched him like that again, he might just drop her.
    He sidestepped a rolling cart and plopped her back on her own damn feet. “Are you all right?”
    Her piled curls slid precariously to one side, but the woman herself looked plenty steady as she gazed up at him with assessing eyes.
    “I wasn’t the one in a fistfight. How are you?” She reached toward the corner of his mouth.
    He flinched away. “I’m fine.”
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to insult your masculinity.” She folded her arms over her chest defensively. “I appreciate that you’re concerned, but I was actually okay. One of these days I really would like to save my own tookus.”
    “You’re going to need something more than a couple of killer mics swinging around like a nunchaku.” Now that he had her face-to-face, that brought another irritation to mind. “I assume your allergies are under control? I notice you’re not sneezing. I waited around after your first show for a half hour to take you to the doctor.”
    “I found a security cop who was happy to help me, thank you very much.”
    “Good.” He stepped between her and a stream of people pouring from the mosh pit. “See if you can stay out of trouble for a while.”
    “How many close calls can a person have? I already feel like I’m wearing a red shirt.”
    “Red shirt?” He struggled to follow her tangential logic. God, she gave him a headache. “Like the aircraft carrier crews?”
    “No. Like in a Star Trek episode. I take it you’re not a Trekkie.”
    Not so much. “I rarely watch television.”
    “Figures,” she mumbled. “In Star Trek , the characters wearing a red shirt variation of the uniform always ended up dead. Well, except for Scotty, of course, and . . . Never mind. You’re obviously not a card-carrying member of the Geek Club.”
    The tilt of her snooty nose made it clear she hadn’t paid him a compliment.
    Before he could answer, she looked toward the stage and frowned. “I hope everyone’s okay. Surely this trip will be smooth sailing from now on.”
    Was she insulting their security? If so, she’d gone too far. He started to remind her who’d rescued her perky ass twice now, but the handcuffed men in uniform being escorted away didn’t exactly speak well for his side.
    Where the hell was Nunez? Jimmy eyed Chloe—a long way down, since she barely reached his chin. Too bad she couldn’t transfer some of that moxie into muscle. “I’ll stay here with you until we’re sure everything’s safe.”
    She opened her mouth to argue.
    He held up his index finger, stopping shy of touching her mouth. “If you leave now, you’ll only be in the way. Let security do their job in calming the crowd.”
    “Fine. You’re right.” She puffed a sigh, hot and steamy along his skin.
    He curled his finger closed and lowered his arm to his side. How long would he have to stand here with her?
    She looked away, her hand fluttering up to sweep back her askew hair bun. “Where did you learn all those moves out there? Was it some kind of judo